


Hell has Dean Winchester

by Coconutice22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crowley and Feelings, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dean and Crowley's summer of love, Drowley, M/M, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Post-Season/Series 11 AU, Schmoop, Season 11 finale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7506799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coconutice22/pseuds/Coconutice22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of Season 11, Dean fails to talk Amara around and ends up sacrificing himself to save the world. Lucky for him, Crowley scoops up his soul before heaven can get there to claim it. Or should that be, lucky for Crowley who never has been able to let go of his feelings for Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell has Dean Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> This work was based on a tag taken from AO3 tag of the day on tumblr:  
> [Pairing Hell](http://ao3tagoftheday.tumblr.com/post/143320448498/the-ao3-tag-of-the-day-is-meanwhile-the\))
> 
> I decided it was far more amusing for me if I could twist to be about pairing-off that happens in hell.

“We should just tell everyone,” Crowley suggested. His breath tickled Dean's ear as they curled together on the bed. “This sneaking about is tiring me out, darling.”

“Ha.”

“That's funny?”

Dean closed his eyes and wondered if he shut them tightly enough, maybe Crowley wouldn't be there any longer. Maybe he wouldn't be in this position. Maybe his feelings wouldn't be what they were. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

“You don't want anyone to know. It'd undermine your position. The King of Hell, screwing the latest acquisition? The common demons will start thinking you play favorites, Crowley.” Dean moved Crowley's arm off of him and swung his legs around so he was sitting with his back to the other man, legs dangling off the bed. “Plus, you don't sleep. How are you getting tired? I'm dead, I'm never getting tired ever again either.”

“You feel alive to me,” Crowley leered.

When the silence between them started to feel oppressive, Crowley spoke again. He did that a lot. He wasn't like Sam or Cas – there weren't such things comfortable silences with Crowley. 

“You did the right thing, saving the Earth, getting rid of Amara.”

“I know.”

“And it's not so bad, is it? You get to enjoy hell the way I've always enjoyed it. Living in the lap of luxury, surrounded by lackeys.”

“I can't go back to the surface though,” Dean bit out.

“That's the reapers' rules. For what it's worth, I'm sorry.” And he meant it, sort of.

More silence. Crowley reached out a hand and lazily dragged a finger to paint invisible patterns on Dean's naked back.

“How many years has it been now, Crowley, since I died?”

“You know time moves differently down here, in this realm.”

“You're keeping an eye on them, right?”

“Of course, love.”

Dean's body was more magic than matter these days, or he was sure his hair would stand on end whenever Crowley used such terms of endearment.

“And they can't come and visit?”

“You think Sam wouldn't try to take you from here? That Castiel wouldn't just blast me to smithereens? I'm trying to give you a nice life, I swear, I promise, but there's only so much I can do. You fought a god and-”

“I know, I know. It's just a transitional period right now. I'm dead, but I'm alive, but I'm dead.”

Dean initiated the sex. He always had between the two of them. Crowley's hands on his, Crowley's mouth on his, Crowley's cock – but only after Dean had touched him first. Always so many sensations, so many ways to get distracted. And when Dean woke up one day, dead yet again, there was Crowley once more, willing to provide Dean with his massive, throbbing distraction.

He felt chilled though he knew he wasn't. Crowley always had the temperature in his room just perfect for Dean. Dean exhaled out of habit and moved to lay down in the bed again. A sense of peace came over him when Crowley moved his arm back to where it had been resting on Dean.

Comfort in cuddling with Crowley? Dean never would have guessed.

The cuddling definitely wasn't something they did last time they were a thing. Though back then, Dean figured his being a demon kind of changed the dynamics.

“We should visit the Lake of Fire tomorrow.”

“You still want to out us as a we?” Dean's surprise was clear in his tone.

“Is it wrong to want to show you off?”

“You never wanted to before.”

“It was different that time.” Crowley shifted so that he was once again slotted perfectly against Dean's back with no room between them.

No matter how close their bodies, Dean never felt overheated. There was some perks to death, to the beyond.

“You're different this time,” Crowley finished.

“Just me? So you were always into the whole cuddling thing?”

Crowley refused to dignify the question with an answer and continued instead to marvel at the smooth softness of Dean's skin. Crowley couldn't seem to stop touching him lately, although caressing might be the better description. Dean wanted to hate it, wanted to hate himself, but he couldn't. He enjoyed it. He reveled in the feelings. The comfort, the peace.

He had to die to find peace.

***

“Why didn't I go to heaven?” He remembered asking Crowley, when his brain came online again post-death.

“I stopped your soul going there. You really want to spend eternity somewhere with so many of those dick bastard angels? Out of heaven and hell, which one has a ruler who has stood by your side and fought for you?”

“I'm not torturing anyone,” Dean had warned.

Crowley's expression shifted into a scowl. “That's not why I brought you here. You deserve more than that. I want to keep you safe.” _Cherished._

“It's the human blood, Crowley. All these things you feel towards me, it's just the blood.”

“I know,” he'd agreed out loud to settle Dean. It wasn't true really, not wholly.

“Though,” Dean laughed, “the blood doesn't explain, ya know,” he gestured between them. Their thing. The summer they'd spent sleeping together and watching each other have sex with random other strangers too. It didn't explain why Dean had emotions other than distaste for Crowley.

“That needs no explanation. You have good taste. And I have excellent taste too, so why wouldn't we?”

“I once tried to boil pasta in bourbon and I consider the lines of a classic car better art than anything Picasso ever painted.”

“You started it all, picked up those blonde twins in Heartfield and then let me share in the experience.”

Dean looked twitchy suddenly, unsure and angry all at once. “If you brought me here just to be your fucktoy–”

“I did not,” Crowley growled.

“Because I'd find a way to kill you if you did.”

“You're not a demon, you're not alive, you have very little chance of killing me.” He didn't say Dean had zero chance because this was Dean Winchester and, well, if anyone could, Dean could.

Dean examined Crowley a moment. “But you reckon I can break your heart, if you had one to break, right?”

“You won't.” _Though you're right, you could. Again._

***

“So this is the infamous Lake of Fire.”

“Yup.”

“It stinks of eggs.”

“There is that.”

“This is disgusting,” Dean laughed. “If eggs could fart, it'd smell like this lake.”

“But the colors are rather beautiful to admire, don't you think?”

“Oh, there is definitely that. Very fire-y. The lake lives up to his name. And you're holding my hand. Out here, where anyone could see us.”

“I want them to know.”

“Not worried they'll take it as a sign of weakness?” Dean asked in a teasing tone.

“If you've taught me anything, Dean Winchester, it is that affection should never be confused with weakness. It makes you powerful, invincible almost. Your love for your family, it makes you a force to be reckoned with.” Crowley sounded so sincere it made Dean's heart ache in a happy kind of way. It sounded almost like Crowley was proud.

He couldn't hear any screaming, any torturing. Dean wondered if Crowley had given everyone the day off to make this happen.

“It is oddly calm here, I'll give you that. Maybe this is what they mean by rest in peace.”

“You understand this isn't the usual arrangement people find themselves in when they come to hell?”

“I know. And thank you.”

Crowley squeezed his hand briefly.

Later they walked back to Crowley's palace. The journey could have been hundreds of miles long and Dean would have never known. Time and space were fluid and ever changing in the beyond.

Somewhere along the way Dean realized they'd been walking in silence, comfortably. Maybe they were at a turning point.

When their destination was finally in sight again, Crowley finally spoke.

“I considered the matter, the problem at hand.”

“Which is?”

“We can't return you to the land above without the reapers running amok.”

“I did kill Death, I probably deserve it.”

“We could kill her, the new head reaper.”

“Billie? I thought you liked her.”

“Replace her with someone a little more, shall we say, sympathetic, to your situation.”

“But isn't she like, an acquaintance of yours now? It's a little rude to kill your friends.”

Crowley opened the main door and let Dean walk in first. There was no temperature change from outside to in. And despite all the walking they'd done, Dean felt no aches nor pain. He didn't feel sweaty or uncomfortable in any way.

“I just wanted to make sure you know that if there's something you need, I'll find a way to get it for you. Including returning you to the moose and llama.”

Dean's heart would have skipped a beat at hearing this, but it had ceased beating some time before. He should have been jumping for joy or _something_ but instead he just marveled at the way one of Crowley's servants was on hand to give him a drink as they walked into the parlor. Dean didn't even need to drink or eat, but Crowley understood that he felt weird when he didn't and always ensured it was to hand.

“Llama?”

Crowley shrugged. “Alpaca? Some kind of ridiculous animal.”

“Not a bird joke, since he's an angel? How about a swan?”

“Dean?” Crowley was confused. As much as he enjoyed their verbal sparring, it had taken him a while to get up the courage to mention this to Dean, to offer to tear the universe up for him. To setting them both on a path that resulted in losing what they were building together.

Dean held his glass of water tightly, looking into it as if it held all the answers.

“My back used to hurt every morning lately. I'd get up, it'd hurt, I'd walk about, it'd hurt. If I wanted to go hunting, I'd take a handful of painkillers to numb the pain just to get through it. But here... here nothing hurts like that.”

“But what about your life?”

“What life? I'm nearly 40, or maybe I am now, with how out of whack time is here. I'm not getting any younger.”

“What are you trying to say?” Crowley asked gently, leading Dean to sit.

“I was always going to die at some point. And I died to save the Earth this time. That's better than being randomly decapitated by a ghoul or, I don't know, any of the hundreds, thousands of other things that would have eventually killed me.”

Crowley found himself fighting the hopeful thoughts building up.

“So you want to stay?” he eventually asked.

Neither of them looked at each other as they sat on the couch looking forwards, each pressed against the side of the other.

“I always wanted to retire someday, you know? It wasn't going to be a forever thing, hunting, that is. Though every time Sam and I thought things might settle, that we could be _normal_ , we'd fuck everything up and put ourselves back in somehow. Because we didn't know how to do normal. Now I've got this opportunity... and it isn't like I won't see Sam again someday.”

The air between them was tense with the missing name there.

“And Castiel?”

“Him, too, I'll see him again. I just don't think hell will be forever. Maybe I'm egotistical, but the past has taught me death doesn't last forever if your name is Dean Winchester.”

“And in the meantime, you're happy to keep residing here?” _with me?_

“Why not?” Dean smiled and turned to face Crowley. He reached up with his right hand to gently reposition Crowley's face so they were looking at each other. Dean moved so that their lips were just a whisper apart. “Not many people have cared for me as much as you have. I think we've got a good thing going.” 

“I agree.”

Dean kissed him and Crowley knew he'd soon be addicted to these soft kisses. These gentle, teasing kisses that weren't about sex or desire but spoke instead of comfort and contentedness.

“Besides the Lake of Fire, what else is there to see down here? Now I'm done pouting over my situation, I'd like to see more.”

“I don't really know. I was always too busy running hell - or running from it - to explore much. We do have an amazing Led Zeppelin tribute act. Middle-aged men who sold their souls for full heads of hair, thinking that would be the secret to their success. They wasted their souls, if you ask me – they should have asked for talent instead. But they're quite amusing.”

“Don't tell them then, Sam and Castiel, don't tell them that I'm here for a little while longer. Until we can explore this place, until I can stomach throwing myself back out there again.”

“They'll work it out eventually, when they realize you aren't in heaven,” Crowley cautioned.

“Yeah. Yes. I know they'll come looking. But let's not think about that for now.” He dragged a hand slowly over the crotch of Crowley's pants.

Crowley tilted his head so he could nuzzle Dean's neck.

“How do you always smell so good?” He placed tender kisses on Dean's neck, indulging his desire to breathe in the other man's scent and worship his beautiful neck. Though every part of Dean was beautiful to Crowley. And now Dean was here, with him, he could have these moments, as many as he wanted, for a long time ahead.

His kisses trailed up to Dean's jaw and meandered their way soon after back to Dean's lips.

Who needs heaven when hell has Dean Winchester?

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ha, so I set about to write another crackfest for SPNColdesthits and instead this came out. When I tried for pure crack last time, I ended up with three people subscribing to the story (wtf, that stuff was awful). So this time I went past cracky and ended up in, well, whatever this is. 
> 
> Obligatory post back to the rules for this month's contest:  
> [Spncoldesthis July](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/146648925185/julys-prompt-posting-dates-15-18-of-july-the)
> 
> You can find me on tumblr as [perfackles](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/perfackles) or coconutice22 if you want my non-Supernatural stuff.
> 
> This wasn't beta read so please so feel free to let me know when you inevitably find mistakes! Message me on tumblr ideally <3 no reviews are necessary. Reviews will only make me write more Dean/Crowley lovin'.


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